Gone Forever
by Anera527
Summary: What is the Curtis brothers' lives like after Sodapop leaves them? Vietnam death flick!
1. Chapter 1

Gone Forever

_**Summary;**_ What is the Curtis brothers' lives like after Sodapop leaves them? Vietnam death flick!

_**Disclaimer;**_ I don't own the Outsiders.

Darry's POV;

As I read the letter, I felt my heart drop and my stomach turn to ice. That one letter-- that one _sentance_--destroyed any hope left for my younger brother, any hope that he'd come back alive and well. The letter fell from my shaking hand to the floor. I slid down the wall to the carpet. In between the lines of Steve Randle's shaky writing were tear stains, and I added my own as I read the letter over again, feeling my heart torn into a million pieces at each word.

_Darry and Ponyboy-_

_Hey. I did what you asked and wrote to you, like you both asked. I didn't want to be th bearer of this... You both know that Sodapop and me were supposed to come home from Vietnam in two weeks for Sodapop's birthday..._

_Soda's not comin' back. He was... killed protecting the unit he was in. I'll be comin' home in one week._

_Steve Randle_

The letter was short and to the point. Brutally to the point. This one note destroyed my ability to hide my feelings and, bending forward, head resting on my knees, I yelled, screamed, did anything possible to relieve the pain and sorrow that was coursing through my body.

I fought to keep my emotions in check. I was twenty-two, Ponyboy's older brother, the leader of our gang. I was Superman. I couldn't let Ponyboy think otherwise-- I could _never _let him think otherwise. I had to be strong for him, to give him what love and comfort I could. God only knew how much he'd need it. I stood up on shaky legs and stumbled to the bathroom, wishing wildly for Mom and Dad. They were gone, too, killed in an auto wreck two years ago.

"DAMN THEM!" I yelled, kicking the wall hard. I rarely cursed, but right then, I didn't care. I hated the government for being in the Vietnam war, for recruiting Sodapop into the army, for destroying any chance he could have had to make a life for himself. I walked into the bathroom and looking in the mirror, was surprised at my reflection. My eyes were red and puffy, tear stains on my cheeks. I hadn't cried for a long time, not even at Mom and Dad's funeral. Turning the water on, I washed and dried my face-- I couldn't let Ponyboy see me like this. I knew he'd be home from school soon, along with Two-Bit Mathews, and I was right when I heard the door slam and laughing from the kitchen.

"Hey, Darry! You there?" Pony called.

"I'm comin'," I answered back, keeping my voice level.Pony, nontheless, sensed something was wrong. 'Oh, you have no idea,' I thought. I put the towel I was using down and walked into the living room where Ponyboy and Two-Bit were waiting for me.

"Hey... hey, Dar. What's wrong?" Ponyboy asked, frowning with concern. When I didn't say anything, he asked again. "Darry?" The smile was disappearing from his lips.

"Sit down, Ponyboy."

He shook his head, walking towards me. "No."

"Sit down, Ponyboy."

"Darry, tell me what's going on--"

"For god's sake, sit down!" Both he and Two-Bit looked shocked-- I never yelled like that. I knew my voice was shaking and as he obediantly sat on the couch, it reminded me of the night my parents had died. He even had the same confused look he'd had on those two years ago. Would his reactio be the same?

"Two-Bit, you need to hear this, too," I said. I turned back to my younger brother as Two-Bit took a seat beside him. "Ponyboy... I got a letter from Steve..."

"Is he and Soda comin' back early?" Pony asked eagerly, face hopeful. I picked the letter up from the floor and handed it to him.

"Not in the way you think," I answered softly, trying to keep my voice from breaking. Two-Bit, reading over my brother's shoulder, was the first done.

"No... that's not possible..." he managed to say-- he was awful white and he looked like he was going to start crying. Ponyboy looked up at me.

"Please," he pleaded desperately. "Please tell me Soda isn't gone... like Mom and Dad." He broke down then and leaped up, suddenly hugging me tightly. As I felt the sobs racking him as he cried into my shoulder, he didn't seem like a middle-aged teen. He was more like a lost and scared and broken five-year-old. I motioned Two-Bit over and he joined the embrace, biting his lip to keep the tears from flowing.

"How can he be gone?" Ponyboy sobbed. "How? First Mom and Dad, then Dally and Johnny. Now this."

"I don't know, baby," I answered softly, keeping my own tears at bay. "I don't know." We stood there, the three of us, for many long minutes, when Pony finally stepped back and wiped his damp cheeks.

"I'm gonna go outside," he said listlessly, in a low monotone. As he headed out, slamming the door behind him, I walked to the kitchen. Two-Bit followed me, tear-stains on his cheeks, sniffing. I saw his mouth drop as I lit a cigarette.

"You don't smoke Darry," he said, wiping his face with his Mickey Mouse shirt. In the back of my mind, I could remember Sodapop's voice say teasingly, 'What kind of tough guy wears Mickey Mouse shirts?'

"I don't very often. I don't let anyone see me doin' it, either. Right now, though, I don't give a damn."

"What's gonna happen now?" I knew what he meant.

"I wish I knew, Two-Bit... I wish I knew."

A/N; First chapter down, and I hope everyone liked it. I would like to thank my best friend for giving me the idea for 'What tough guy wears Mickey Mouse shirts.'


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2;**_

Lying in bed later that night, with the covers flung off to one side, I remembered the past two years. I had been twenty when my parents died. I had been planning to go to college, but I decided against it so I could keep the family together. Only a few months after that, the gang lost two of it's members-- Dallas "Dally" Winston and Johnny Cade, who we all called Johnnycakes. We all hoped that that would be the end of all the pain and horror and sadness-- until Steve and Soda were drafted into the army to fight in the war of Vietnam. Why did all of these things have to happen to us greasers? Did God hate us? Is that why we had all the troubles and rough breaks?

I bolted upright when I heard screaming from Ponyboy's room; I could guess why. Running down the hall, I found him twisted in his covers, eyes shut tight and sweat streaming down his face.

"Ponyboy, come on little buddy, wake up," I said softly, lifting him up into a sitting position and rubbing his back. "Come on, wake up." Shaking, he did, and looked up at me.

"Darry?" he whispered.

"Yeah, I'm here, Pony," I answered, brushing the hair back from his eyes. "You're safe."

He looked at me, but his eyes were sad and faraway, like he was a million miles away. "Sodapop's really gone, isn't he?" he asked in a soft whisper.

The question was like a punch to my stomach. "Yeah... he is. But that doesn't mean he can't go on living, Pony. Only if we forget will he be totally gone. Only if we forget _any _of them be gone." I looked down at him. "You okay now?" He nodded, but when I stood to leave, he grabbed my hand.

"Stay. Please?" I looked down at him for a second.

"Sure, little buddy." We laid down again and drifted off, my arm around him. We still had each other-- we could make it through.

The next few days went by in a blur as we tried to get over Sodapop's death. It certainly wasn't easy, escpecially as the day of the funeral came closer. That day was like a predator everyone feared, that lurked ever closer, that haunted your thoughts. I didn't make Ponyboy go to school-- there was little to no chance that he'd pay attention in class. The school year only had a couple weeks before summer came, anyway.

The day of the funeral was bright and sunny. With my arm around Ponyboy's shoulders, we stood there, heads bowed, barely listening to the preacher. As the coffin holding Sodapop's body was lowered into the ground, Pony broke down again and cried into my shoulder. I stood quietly, not letting tears come. After the burial, Two-Bit's mother, Rachel Mathews, came up to us, tears streaming down her cheeks. Two-Bit himself was standing a few feet away.

"I'm so sorry boys," Ms. Mathews said. "He was a wonderful boy, and he shouldn't have been the one to go." We embraced and I watched as she placed a bouquet of flowers on the fresh mound of dirt in front of the tombstone. 'Three down, two to go,' I thought to myself. After awhile, I shook myself and rubbing the back of Ponyboy's head, said,

"Come on, Pony. Let's go home." We walked to the truck together and I opened the door for him. Sliding in, he settled himself, hands folded in his lap and face incredibly sad; yet his eyes were once again listless and dead. I started the truckup and headed down the road in silence, figuring that my baby brother didn't want to talk.

"Why?"

The question surprised me. "What?"

Pony looked at me, face still sad. "Why do we greasers always seem to have the rough breaks? Why do we greasers seem to be the only ones who lose the family we love? First it was Mom and Dad... then Dally and Johnny... and now Soda. Why?" I was sure he would break down again, but he seemed to be run out of tears. I nearly cried myself at the tone of his voice.

I looked at him slowly. "I know it may seem that we greasers have all the tragedy and loss-- believe me, I've thought about that a lot, too. But that isn't how it truly is. Everyone has death in their lives, even the Soc's. Look at the Sheldon family. We greasers aren't the only ones who lose friends, either. You remember Robert?" Pony nodded, remembering a twenty-five year old friend of mine who worked with me on roofing houses. "Robert lost one of his closest friends a few years before he moved here... and you know he isn't a Soc, nor a greaser."

Pony nodded again and by his expression, I knew he felt a bit better. We drove the rest of the way home in silence.

A/N; How'd y'all like it? I'm sorry this chapter was a little long. I have a question. Would Two-Bit's mother be known as _Ms. _Mathews, or _Mrs. _Mathews? Third chapter will be coming soon.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3;**_

Pony's POV;

"Hey, kid." Turning in surprise, I found Two-Bit behind me, a small yet sad grin on his face.

I grinned too. "Hey, Two-Bit. I thought you were gonna help your mom around the house today."

He sighed. "She kicked me out for the day, until six-thirty. Said my friends needed me more than she did." He looked at me carefully. "And I'm thinkin' she was right." I shook my head.

"Two-Bit, I'm fine."

He was looking at me with serious gray eyes. "No you're not," he answered softly. "You wouldn't have loved your brother if you were fine." A wave of anger washed over me, but it was quickly suppressed beacause I realized what Two-Bit said was correct. I wouldn't have have cared about Sodapop if I was okay-- and I wasn't. I was still hurting bad-- every night for a week after the funeral, I would wake up in the morning, expecting to find Sodapop stretched out beside me, his arm flung across my shoulders. The nightmares had started again...bu this time I could remember them clearly. It was about Sodapop-- _always _about Sodapop. In my mind's eye, I held images of Soda's death locked tight behind a large metal door during the day... But during the night, that door was opened and I was haunted by graphic deaths. I woke up screaming every time... and now, there was no Sodapop there to calm me down, no Sodapop to make me feel protected against those nightmares. He had always been there for me, and I wished I had been there for him. Life just wasn't the same without Soda there to make us laugh, or see what interesting food he made for dinner.

"Where you goin'?" I asked quietly as we headed down the street.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe check out the ladies lingering around on the streets. Would you like to go to the Diner and get something to eat since Darry's not gonna be home for awhile?"

"I don't know. What time is it?"

"Uhhh... it's..." Two Bit checked his watch, "five forty-three."

"Yeah. I guess so."

"How's Darry?"

I looked at Two-Bit and shrugged. "The same as always." Indeed, Darry was the same as always. He made sure I went tobed on time and he went to work every day after he was sure I was up... as if he had erased Sodapop from his life. To a person who didn't know him--or even a close friend-- it may have seemed that that is what he did, but I knew better. Ever since Johnny and Dally died two years ago, we started to understand each other a little bit more and, though he was still pretty strict, he no longer yelled when I got in trouble and we started getting more of a brotherly relationship again, rather than the parent-child relationship like we had before. I guess that was just the way he got over the pain-- to pick up your shattered heart from the floor and continue with life, and never forget the loved ones you lost. "He's fine." We took a seat at the diner. We ordered our food and sat in silence.

"Steve's home now," Two-Bit said casually, not looking at me.

"What?!"


End file.
